


Kissing Warren Peace

by laleia



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Implied Warren Peace/Layla Williams, Implied Warren Peace/Will Stronghold, Implied Warren Peace/Will Stronghold/Layla Williams, Implied Will Stronghold/Layla Williams, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laleia/pseuds/laleia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warren attempts to reassure himself of his heterosexuality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing Warren Peace

“I would never screw Stronghold,” he said. “I want to clarify that.”

“That’s good to know,” I said cautiously.

“I’m not gay,” he said firmly. “And even _if_ I were, Stronghold is a friend. I don't screw my friends.”

“Okay…” I said slowly, unsure why he was talking to me. Warren Peace and I had been in most of the same classes for three and a half years, and we’d never exchanged a single word, this _including_ the project we partnered up for.

“I like girls,” he continued. “I like the way they look at me through their eyelashes, I like the way their curves feel against me, and I _really_ like fucking them, whether it’s hard and fast in the storage closet on the third floor, or trying to keep quiet in their bedrooms while their parents are in the next room, or drawing it out all night in a cheap motel room.”

I didn’t bother to respond this time, merely looked around to see if this surreal conversation weren’t actually a product of my imagination. 

“I like girls,” he repeated, “And girls like _me_. They fall in love with me. They go out to dinner with me. And they sleep with me. They _love_ my bad boy rep. _Especially_ since at the end of the day, I’m practically guaranteed to never turn villain.”

A bit egotistical, but true – 80% of the girls at Sky High had a crush on Warren Peace.

“So if I’m not gay, and not going to screw Stronghold, then _why won’t Layla sleep with me_?” he demanded.

…Somehow, I had missed the leap in his logic.

“_You’re_ a girl,” (Uh oh, speeches that started with “you’re a girl” never ended well…) “So can _you_ tell me why Layla thinks sleeping with her would be ‘an attempt to sublimate my desire for Will into a more heteronormative attraction that would in the end still be dominated by the perpetual Damocles’ sword that both of us desired Will more than the other, which could only lead to illicit affairs on both our parts until we finally descended…’”

“Descended into what?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I stopped paying attention at that point.”

Recognizing he was expecting some sort of response, I ventured, “So _do_ you, um … _desire_ Will?”

“No,” he said flatly. “Haven’t you been listening? I’m not gay, and I’m not going to screw Stronghold.”

“‘Not going to’ isn’t the same as ‘don't want to,’” I pointed out hesitantly. “And it’s not like you have to be gay to … _desire_ him.” What an odd word.

“I like _girls_,” he bit out.

“You could like girls _and_ Will,” I suggested. “Why don’t you try kissing him and see what happens?” And I could sell tickets to some of the girls in school who’d been _dying_ to see the two in bed together for three years. I’d be rich in the space of 24 hours.

Warren scowled as he stalked toward me as if he were about to reiterate his point with pyrotechnics for emphasis.  “I’m not going ‘try kissing’ Will because _I like girls_,” he growled.  I braced myself for the inevitable singed eyebrows, but instead …

… he kissed me.

I will admit, it was hot.  Warren Peace is an _extremely_ good kisser.  He was insistent, but not domineering; his hands held me gently in place, but would have let go at the slightest indication from me.  His body was hotter than I’d expected, and his kiss made me burn as well.  And _wow_, does that boy know how to use his tongue.

When he drew away, I almost whimpered in protest.

He looked me over in my hot, flustered state and smirked.  “Told you I like girls.”

At that last word, I paused, blinked a few times, and sighed.  “I’m a _guy_,” I told him.

He was visibly nonplussed.  “You can’t be a guy,” he protested without conviction, looking me over again.  I knew what he saw:  slight frame, gender-neutral haircut, long eyelashes and baby-soft skin.  I looked pretty androgynous, and people often had to look twice before they correctly pinned down my gender – the _first_ time they met me.

“I can’t believe you missed that small detail after _three years of classes together_.  Typical.”

Warren looked decidedly sheepish as he edged away.

I didn’t let my momentum dissipate, though, as I took two steps toward him until I was in his face.  “So, Warren Peace, here’s where you find where you _really_ stand.  Will you kiss me again, knowing that I am not in fact a girl?  It could be a less embarrassing experiment than kissing your Stronghold out of the blue.”

Warren hesitated, than snapped, “He’s not _my_ Stronghold!” before leaning in.

This kiss was different, less confident on his part and moreso on mine.  There was more teeth and less tongue, and it lasted until we both ran out of oxygen.

We were both panting as we drew apart, and he looked quite shaken.  No surprise given he’d been _so_ convinced he was 100% straight.  “I can’t believe you’re not a girl,” he finally said, “I always thought your name was Molly.”

I rolled my eyes as I turned to leave.  “I _am_ a girl,” I told him.  The confusion on his face was almost cute.  “Three and a half years in the same classes, and you _fell_ for that?  My _name_ is Mary Sue.”

“B- Wh-”

“And I can now assure you that you _don’t_ only like girls.”

And then I was gone.  Molly, indeed.


End file.
